


Stars in His Eyes

by rookiewithachance



Series: actual 2015 be more chill (mostly boyfs) [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Squip, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Making Out, Popular!Michael, Romance, aka what 2015 was really like, boyf riends — Freeform, michael is confident so everyone likes him, the f-slur is mentioned but not said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11579352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rookiewithachance/pseuds/rookiewithachance
Summary: Jeremy loved his life. He had great friends, was on a good track for graduation, and his amazing boyfriend was in good social standing with anyone who was anyone at school. It hadn't all been easy, sure, but he sometimes couldn't believe just how lucky he really was.





	Stars in His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Posting TWO fanfics in a currently active fandom?? What has this show done to me
> 
> this happened because Kat and I were talking about how being a nerd didn't automatically make you a loser in actual 2015, just in Ned Vizzini's 2004 version of 2015, and how since Michael acts very confident and laid back, he'd probably be a pretty popular guy. my mind just took that idea and ran with it. 
> 
> this is mostly just an excuse for me to wordvomit all my headcanons at you, and for me to write a very fond Jeremy gushing over Michael. because we need more'a that shit ok

Being friends with Michael came with a lot of perks, and Jeremy didn’t just mean his dashing good looks and shining personality (though he absolutely adored both of those things). It was because of those two things, along with the bravado and confidence he portrayed, that people _liked_ Michael. There were few people in the school who had any reason to dislike him, and those people were often bitter by default, so they didn’t count in Jeremy’s mind. And, _because_ people liked Michael, he got invited to things. Parties, concerts, dances, you name it, someone has probably offered an invite to Michael to it at some point or another. Being the modest introvert he was, Michael did not accept many of these invitations, but that never seemed to deter anyone. Michael never lacked in his options of social events.

Yeah, being best friends with Michael was awesome. But dating him? Well, that shit was _sweet_.

He felt a goofy grin come across his face, ducking his head inside his locker in case anyone happened to see him. He had no doubt he had stars in his eyes at just the thought of his boyfriend. Any attempt at reigning in his expression failed, and he just laughed to himself, balancing his backpack on one knee to switch out his books before heading home. He had homework that required textbooks, but not any that he already had with him… He wracked his brain as he tried to recall exactly which ones he needed.

“Hey, Jere!”

Jeremy just about jumped through the ceiling, his bag falling to the ground in his surprise. He watched Michael break out into an amused grin, his shoulder shaking against the locker with held-back laughter. Michael stood straight just so he could invade Jeremy’s personal space, still smiling as he looked up at Jeremy. “Calm down there, bud,” he said, attempting and failing to sound sultry, “we’re in public.”

Jeremy just rolled his eyes, stooping down to pick up his backpack and zip it closed, slinging it over his shoulder. He was pretty sure he had everything he needed anyway. “You’re the one who needs to calm down.” Jeremy closed his locker with one hand, taking Michael’s hand with his other and lacing their fingers together. “Get your mind outta the gutter.”

“With a guy like you on my arm? Wish me luck.”

Attempting to hide the blush creeping up his neck, Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I’m not your arm candy, Mell. I’m gracing you with my presence and I can take your boyfriend privileges away at any moment.”

Michael feigned offense, pressing the palm of the hand not holding Jeremy’s to his chest. “Well, we wouldn’t want that! I’d better ramp up the flirt and flattery, to keep your favor.”

“Yeah, you’d better.”

They shared a laugh as they made their way towards the front of the school, Michael bumping his shoulder against Jeremy’s upper arm. He looked like he was about to say something, but was cut off when a figure went running by Jeremy, smacking his backpack as they passed. Jeremy stumbled but managed to stay on his feet, feeling Michael’s free hand come to hold his arm, steadying him. Their hands were still together, and Michael squeezed it as he tore his worried gaze away from Jeremy to scan the hallway. The perpetrator was standing with a group of his friends, all of them giggling in the couple’s direction.

Suspicious, Jeremy took his backpack off, and sure enough, there was a note stuck there, covering the _boyf_ written on it, the marker faded. Jeremy sighed, tearing the paper off and scanning it.

“They could have been more creative, at least,” Michael muttered as he read over Jeremy’s shoulder, taking the piece of paper and crumpling it. “Or grow the fuck up. The f-slur is like, so 2004.”

Leaving Jeremy to chuckle at the offhand comment, Michael balled the paper in his fist and stomped over to the group of underclassmen, more than prepared to chew them out for their hateful ignorance. However, a small, angry blur crossed his path and beat him to the kids, throwing a punch at the guy who had planted the note with such force and momentum that it all-but knocked him over. He stumbled backwards, into the crowd of his friends, who all collectively hurried away, leaving a red-faced Rich huffing at them as they left.

“Hopefully next time you’ll thing before being _homophobic assholes to my friends_.”

Giving out one last irritated sigh, Rich stalked back to the two of them and poked Jeremy in the stomach. “Hey man. How you doing?”

Jeremy just laughed. “I’m fine, Rich. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, yeah. I don’t _have_ to do a lot of things,” Rich said with a non-committal shrug, trying to brush off Jeremy’s attempt to thank him.

Chuckling, Michael held up a hand for Rich to high-five. “Dude. That was _awesome_.”

Rich smacked his hand with a grin. “Hell yeah!”

Between them, Jeremy just sighed, putting his bookbag back on. “Thanks for the gesture, Rich, but wasn’t that a bit risky? We’re still at school dude, you could get in—”

“Sorry Jere, but getting in trouble tends to be the last thing on Rich’s mind.” Michael flung an arm around Rich’s shoulder, bumping their heads together affectionately. “It’s not like he goes looking for trouble or anything, but…”

“If it finds _me_ , who am I to say no?” Rich finished Michael’s thought, the two of them laughing over it. Michael launched into a story Jeremy had heard a thousand times about the time Rich started a food fight back in second grade because someone stole Michael’s lunch box, and Jeremy smiled. He allowed himself to tune out Michael’s words, content to watch the animated way Michael told the story with his hands as much as anything else and Rich’s equally animated response, and a warm sense of fondness spread over him at the sight. Michael and Rich had been friends since kindergarten, and had established themselves as a package deal long before Jeremy knew either of them. Moving schools before starting middle school will do that to you. Thankfully, neither of them made him feel particularly estranged, though Rich did go through a troubled phase right before they started high school, and attempted to completely sever himself from any association with Jeremy or Michael.

Eighth grade was tough for all of them. Jeremy didn’t hold it against him.

The Rich standing in front of him today, though, was an energetic, passionate fireball of a man, trying his hand at every athletic or physical activity he could get his hands on. And Michael… well, Michael was Michael. President of the school’s video game club (with Jeremy as his vice, naturally) and every bit as soft and huggable as Jeremy ever remembers him. His smile—accented adorably with the smallest of tooth gaps that you might miss if you weren’t looking—radiated heat like the sun and his laugh could fill a hundred rooms. He was such a joyful presence that it was easy for Jeremy to forget the storm raging behind those wire-rimmed glasses.

He was pretty sure that the only people that really knew about the extent of Michael’s mental health issues were himself and Rich, and that’s only because they spent so much time around him and knew him so well that he was physically incapable of hiding anything from them. Jeremy didn’t even want to count the number of times he would get late night calls from a sobbing Michael, only to rush over to his house to find him curled up on his bathroom floor, tears a mix of regret, panic, and distress. Jeremy had become very good at basic first aid; to this day, he _still_ always carried Band-Aids and Neosporin in his backpack, a habit he couldn’t shake even though Michael had been clean of self-harm for almost a year. Jeremy was proud of the way Michael wasn’t afraid of people seeing his scars anymore, though he can always feel Michael shrink when someone’s gaze lingers on them for a bit too long. He always made a point of giving anyone who did that the stink eye, before holding Michael that much closer. He’s proud of his boyfriend, dammit, and anyone who disagrees with him on how wonderful Michael fucking Mell is does not deserve him and is only leaving more of him for those who actually appreciate him.

“—and he’s totally not listening. You still with us, Jere?”

Hearing his nickname brought Jeremy out of his head, quickly realizing he’d missed something. Michael and Rich were both looking at him, expectant and confused. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out an awkward laugh. “I am now. Sorry guys.”

Rich shrugged, giving Jeremy an easy-going smile. “It’s all good. I’ve gotta get to track practice anyways. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Be safe, honey!” Michael called after him, his tone saccharine as he waved frantically. “Don’t forget to bring a sweater!”

“Fuck you, mom!”

Michael was cackling as Rich left, wiping tears away with the heel of his hand. “I fuckin’ love him.”

Jeremy shared a laugh with him, watching Rich flip them off before turning the corner with a flourish, causing both of them to laugh harder as he vanished from sight. “It’s a good thing I know you two, otherwise I’d think you hated each other.”

“It’s our special love language.”

Instead of answering, Jeremy gave an affirmative hum, slipping his hand back into Michael’s. He stared unabashedly down at Michael, who in turn gave him the biggest, most beautiful smile that melted Jeremy’s heart over and over again. “I love you. Have I told you that?”

That earned him a small laugh and a blush from Michael, who took a sudden interest in the lockers next to them. “In the past hour? Nope.”

“Good, I’m getting behind. Gonna have to catch up.”

They started walking again, and Jeremy made a point of telling Michael he loved him and that he was beautiful and amazing and everything Jeremy could have ever wanted. Every compliment that slipped past his lips, Michael dodged with ease, deflecting them with an underhanded, self-deprecating comeback. If this had happened a few years back, Jeremy likely would have been disheartened by Michael’s unwillingness to listen, but Jeremy now was only spurred on by the way Michael’s shoulders tensed every time Jeremy reaffirmed his love and appreciation of him. He’d say it enough times, more than enough times, until Michael heard his words for that they were. Genuine.

As focused as he was on his mission, Jeremy hadn’t noticed that Michael had stopped walking until he was jerked backwards by the arm. Confused, he glanced back, trying to tug Michael along with him. “Hey man, what’s up? Why’d you stop?”

Michael shook his head, checking something on his phone before giving Jeremy a questioning look. “Wait a sec dude, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have rehearsal today? Shit that started like five minutes ago we gotta get you to the audito—”

Jeremy stopped him by wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders and leading him down the hallway, flashing him a smile. “Is that what you were worried about? I’m just a fuckin’ munchkin, dude, I think they can survive one rehearsal without me. Christine’ll cover for me anyways. Besides.”

Using the arm he had around Michael’s shoulders as leverage, he turned around and pinned Michael to the lockers, a hand pressing into the metal next to Michael’s head. He kept his other hand firmly wrapped around the strap of his backpack in the hopes that that would keep it from shaking so much. (No matter how long he’d been with Michael, and how well they knew each other, he was still an awkward, nervous flirt at his core, and he didn’t know if he would ever fully shake that.) He gave Michael what he hoped was a warm, syrupy smile. “I haven’t seen you in like, a week. I miss you.”

That made Michael laugh, shrinking a bit under the attention but not moving to pull away, which Jeremy was making sure to give him ample opportunity for. Jeremy watched him try to swallow down the blush on his cheeks, but they only got redder. “You see me every day Jer, what the fuck?”

Jeremy leaned in closer, leaning down so that his nose brushed against Michael’s. “That’s not what I meant.”

Michael shivered hard against him, looking at the ground as he took his lip into his mouth, trapping it under a canine. It made Jeremy wonder if Michael knew that that always made Jeremy only that much closer to kissing him. Michael went to pull Jeremy’s hand from the wall and put it in his own, tugging Jeremy down the hall. “You’re such a horny loser, Heere,” Michael threw over his shoulder as Jeremy scrambled to keep up so Michael wouldn’t physically drag him—which Jeremy knew he would. “I love you.”

Finally catching up to Michael, Jeremy stuck their joint hands in Michael’s hoodie pocket, laughing. “Love you too, Micah.”

Jeremy didn’t miss the catch in Michael’s step at the nickname.

If Michael thought that, after he’d told Jeremy how that particular nickname got to him, Jeremy wouldn’t use it for his own means, he was a thousand percent wrong. Whether Michael regretted the decision or not was unknown to him, and Jeremy vainly reminded himself to ask at a time where his mind wasn’t so clouded and he didn’t grin so wide at the way Michael was no longer looking at him.

They made the rest of the walk to Michael’s car in comfortably tense silence, Jeremy letting go of Michael’s hand to walk around the car, headed to claim his rightful place at shotgun. Imagine his confusion, then, when he felt a tug at his backpack that stopped him. He heard a car door open, and he spun around to ask Michael what was up—only to have the front of his shirt gripped as Michael shoved him into the backseat of his car. Jeremy landed a bit awkward, the upper part of his body behind the passenger seat, backpack pressing into the car door opposite where he got in and legs bent at the knees, splayed out in fear of the door being closed on him. He blinked, dazed in his confusion, and didn’t register Michael climbing into the car with him and closing the backseat door. He didn’t realize Michael was there at all, that is, until Michael was crawling between his legs and grabbing his face, dragging him into a needy, breathless kiss.

An embarrassing squeak of surprise escaped Jeremy before he could catch it, but the sound only seemed to spur Michael on, pressing closer and licking at Jeremy’s lips, and Jeremy was helpless against the onslaught of affection. He happily allowed himself to be overwhelmed by it and grabbed the back of Michael’s neck to yank him down further.

They broke apart only because of the burning in their lungs, Michael dragging his hands down Jeremy’s face, shoulders, chest, gripping Jeremy’s hips as he peppered kisses across every inch of skin that was available to him. “I hate you,” he muttered, still panting as his lungs tried to recover, trailing kisses down Jeremy’s neck and nudging the collar of his shirt aside to kiss at his shoulder too. “I hate you so much for that.”

Jeremy couldn’t hold back his laughter at that, breath catching as Michael bit down in protest. “Do you?” He asked, doing everything is his power to keep his voice even, “cuz you seemed to be enjoying it, Micah.”

“And _that_.” Michael pulled back to stare Jeremy in the eye, face so red it might as well be glowing, his hands starting to roam now that his mouth was being used for something else. “Oh my god I cannot _believe_ you used that _while we’re at school_ —”

Jeremy’s hand snuck under Michael’s hoodie, nails digging into the small of his back, creating enough of a distraction that he had to take a moment, gritting his teeth and taking in a shaky breath to steady himself. His train of thought had completely derailed, and Jeremy watched him try to fish it back out of the haze. Jeremy grinned.

“Can you blame me, though?” Jeremy used Michael’s distraction to take the upper hand, tangling a hand in Michael’s hair and yanking him down into another kiss. He used the hand on Michael’s back to press him closer, feeling Michael ball his fists in Jeremy’s shirt. “When I get this out of you, I kinda can’t help myself.”

Michael shuffled forward on his knees, pressing up against every part of Jeremy he has access to, running his hands down his sides, suddenly becoming very aware of the fact that both of them are still wearing their backpacks. And the rest of their situation came flooding in soon after. “Shit,” he breathed, pulling away with a frown and sitting back on his heels. “Jere, listen, as romantic as making out in my car is, we are not getting to second base in the backseat of my PT Cruiser.”

“You’re scolding _me_? You’re the one who shoved me in here to suck my face dude, I was more than happy to wait until we got to your place, but you couldn’t—”

“Oh no, you are not turning this on me when you are the one who pinned me to a _locker_ and called me… called me _that_! This is completely and totally your fault and I’m gonna leave you with blue balls for the rest of the day—”

“Oh come on you know you won’t do that—”

“ _Watch me, Heere_ —”

“—after what just happened, you can barely keep your _hands_ off me—!”

They both fell silent, remembering the situation they were in: Michael was still sitting between Jeremy’s legs, both of them bright red and aching to touch each other again. Jeremy let out a shaky laugh, muttering an awkward joke about “inconvenient circumstances” or something. Michael wasn’t sure, he hadn’t really heard what his boyfriend had said, but he still shook his head, unable to hide the fond smile that grew at the way Jeremy bashfully avoided eye contact with him.

Casually, Michael shouldered off his backpack and threw it onto the floor of the backseat before opening the door behind him. “We can discuss the terms and conditions on the way to my house,” he said, leaving Jeremy to do the same. They settled into their respective places in the front seat, seatbelts on, and Michael started up the car and made his way out of the school’s parking lot. Jeremy fought to swallow the blush that was still consuming his face, which was something Michael seemed determined to make impossible.

“If you’re wantin’ me to put out,” he said, conversationally, as if they were discussing math homework, “you’re gonna have to earn it.”

Blood pounded in Jeremy’s ears as he gave up on trying to calm down. His mind was flooded with countless of ideas on how exactly he could “earn it,” immediately making it his mission for the day to make Michael scream. He wanted his boyfriend to scream until he lost his voice, until his throat was raw, until the only words he could remember were Jeremy’s name and desperate pleas. He took a deep breath, giving Michael a hungry look.

“Gladly.”

Michael gripped the steering wheel tighter, the car lurching when he accidentally hit the gas. He coughed out a laugh, refusing to meet Jeremy’s gaze even as his own eyes darkened. “Jesus fucking Christ Jeremy, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Hey, there are worse ways to go.”

That made Michael laugh, adjusting his glasses. “I couldn’t think of a better one.”

And if Jeremy had stars in his eyes, it was only because he was staring at the brightest star in the universe.

**Author's Note:**

> just like Michael made my last fic gayer than I was intending, Jeremy made this get A LOT more sexual than what I had originally planned out. dammit jerry.
> 
> if anyone wants to scream about BMC my tumblr is lifehateslemons. i need more people to talk to this shit about and i'm bad at initiating conversation ;;;;;;


End file.
